Scarlet Enchantment

Chapter 20

She kept wondering what Damian might bring her. On the bright side, it could be a phone already installed with monitoring software. On the downside, she couldn't imagine anything worse. He was truly despicable, a genuine bastard with no bottom line. Every time, he managed to be more vile than she could ever predict.

About ten minutes later, Damian finally arrived, seemingly displeased that she chose to sit in the public lounge area. He tilted his head slightly and ordered, "Sit over there."

He was referring to the bar on the other side of the lobby, which was far more comfortable than where she was. But Emily didn't get up. She looked up at him calmly and explained, "I'm wearing a volunteer uniform. It's not appropriate for me to sit there."

Damian looked at her for a moment, then smiled slightly and sat down beside her. "The view here isn't very good," he remarked.

The comment was confusing, and Emily couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. She wanted to ask what he meant by the view, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, she asked, "What do you want?"

Damian smiled faintly, reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, and pulled out a small note. He placed it on the wide marble coffee table in front of them and slowly pushed it towards her, his sharp eyes fixed on her with a hint of amusement. "Nathan had an urgent matter and had to leave the country. He asked me to return this to you and to ask what exactly is going on between Damian Blackwood and Sebastian Lane."

Emily didn't react. She sat there frozen, ever since Damian pulled out the note. Initially, she feared Nathan wouldn't come. Then she feared he would come and be caught by Damian. But she never expected this—the worst-case scenario wasn't Nathan coming, but Damian coming in his place.

Maybe this wasn't even the worst. The worst was yet to come. Since Damian came on Nathan's behalf, he wouldn't let her off easily.

Damian continued to smile, asking, "Ms. Carter, what do you know about Damian and Sebastian? Can you tell me? I'm quite curious."

She couldn't find her voice. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She closed her mouth, took a deep breath, and finally managed to say, "I don't know anything. I only said that to trick Nathan."

"Is that so?" he replied softly, leaning back. His legs crossed, one elbow rested on the arm of the sofa, and his thumb and forefinger gently stroked his chin. He seemed lazy and indifferent. "I thought you were bluffing Nathan. Still, it surprised me. Just when I thought our game was getting boring, you gave me a delightful surprise. It's quite amusing."

He wasn't lying. He and she were like a cat-and-mouse game. He was about to get bored and either throw her away or kill her when suddenly, the mouse fought back. He was surprised, but not angry. Instead, he found it interesting, even exciting, thinking, "Great, I can play with this toy a little longer."

Emily remained silent, her lips tightly pressed together.

He smiled again and said, "As a reward for this surprise, I think I should give you a gift in return. Don't you agree?"

Her pupils contracted uncontrollably, and she looked at him nervously, waiting for his so-called gift.

Just then, the soothing background piano music abruptly stopped. After a moment of silence, the lobby was suddenly filled with the sound of heavy male breathing and a woman's seductive, tearful moans. The sounds were so shocking and explicit that everyone in the lobby froze in place, instinctively looking up to find the source.

The large display screens hanging in prominent spots around the lobby, which had been showing scenic views of Serenity City, suddenly switched to an explicit s*x video. Although the faces were pixelated, the scene was unmistakable. The woman's naked body was fully exposed, her pale skin stark against the two bronze-skinned men beside her. Her body writhed, legs tightly wrapped around one man's waist, while the men thrust into her forcefully. Their thick c***s plunged deep into her wet p***y with each thrust, accompanied by low groans and the sound of intense f*****g.

Both hotel guests and staff were stunned. The video played for nearly a minute before the lobby manager snapped out of his shock and shouted at the staff to turn off the video. He himself ran towards the screens, trying to shut them off directly.

The lobby was in chaos, but the corner lounge area felt like death. As soon as the sounds started, Emily felt like she had been struck by lightning. Her mind went blank, like her soul had been forced out of her body, completely losing control over herself.

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She felt like she was floating in mid-air, watching herself tremble uncontrollably. She was like a dry leaf in a cold wind, ready to be torn to shreds at any moment. She lifted her head again, staring at the massive screen. Suddenly, she remembered what Damian had said earlier—that the view here wasn't great. He was right; from this angle, she could only see a few blurred, intertwined figures on the screen.

Across from her, Damian's lips were moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. She just sat there, staring blankly at him. In her mind, she kept telling herself she wasn't as strong as she thought. Don't go mad, she screamed to herself. You've come this far, you can't lose it now.

To Damian, it seemed like in an instant, all the blood had drained from her face. She was as pale as paper, her lips almost colorless, and her eyes, usually so deep and dark, were now empty and filled with despair, staring blankly at him.

He should have felt satisfied with her reaction, but instead, he couldn't help but recall the way she looked last night when she climaxed in his arms. Her eyes were misty with tears, her pale face tinged with a soft blush, her cheeks deeply flushed, and her lips, red as petals, parted slightly, her breath sweet and heavy.

Such a vividly sensual woman.

Out of nowhere, he said to her, "They won't recognize you. The faces are pixelated, and the voices are altered."

But she didn't react, continuing to stare at him blankly as if her soul had left her body.

He felt a strange sense of alarm, got up, and moved to sit beside her, gripping her trembling shoulders tightly. She didn't resist. Her body continued to shake, the tremors traveling through his arms, clear and intense. He tightened his grip, calling her name, trying to wake her, "Emily, Emily!"

After what felt like an eternity, her trembling finally subsided. Just as he sighed in relief, she spoke softly, "Let me go, Damian. Please, let me go."

He slowly released his hold, leaning back slightly, his eyes narrowed as he studied her. Despite her pale complexion, her eyes were no longer empty but instead shone with a fierce intensity. She was back, the unbreakable, stubborn woman he both hated and loved.

Damian chuckled lightly, mocking her, "It seems I underestimated your resilience, Ms. Carter. Perhaps leaving the faces unblurred would have been more effective."

She lowered her gaze, neither angry nor afraid, and said calmly, "Damian, do you believe in karma?" He hesitated, but before he could answer, she continued, "I do. I believe that good and evil will be repaid. One day, you will face retribution. Someone will make you pay for what you've done, and they'll drag you into hell where you'll suffer forever."

He laughed angrily, gripping her chin and sneering, "Oh, really? Don't worry, if that day ever comes, I'll make sure you get to hell first. We'll keep each other company, how about that?"

She looked up at him, her voice steady, "I've already been living in hell. I'll be waiting for you."

He stared at her for a moment, then unexpectedly smiled and let her go, saying, "Fine."

At that moment, a young female voice hesitantly called out, "Excuse me, are you Mr. Damian Blackwood of Blackwood Enterprises?"

Both Damian and Emily looked up. It was a cute girl with short hair and big eyes, the same one Emily had seen earlier bringing documents for Damian. She glanced at Damian, then at Emily, her expression natural. She turned back to Damian, a bit nervous, waiting for his response.

Damian nodded slightly, "Yes, I am."

The girl’s face lit up with a sweet smile. "Mr. Blackwood, I'm a huge fan. I was really impressed by your lecture on innovative capital. Could I have your autograph?"

Damian was slightly surprised. Due to his status and striking appearance, he often encountered young women making advances or striking up conversations, but it was rare for someone to directly ask for his autograph. He frowned slightly, about to refuse, but the girl clasped her hands together, pleading, "Please, Mr. Blackwood, don't refuse. I bragged to my friends that I'd get your autograph!"

Her pleading expression was pitiful but did nothing to soften Damian's cold heart. He remained indifferent, even showing some irritation, "I'm not some idol, and I don't make a habit of signing autographs."

Seeing his firm refusal, the girl quickly turned to Emily, pleading, "Please, miss, could you help me? Ask Mr. Blackwood to give me an autograph, just one signature in my notebook. You remember me, right? We met at the front desk earlier, and I smiled at you."

Emily did remember her, and she also remembered the girl had been holding a document bag, supposedly for Damian. Now the documents were gone, and she was asking for an autograph.

The girl, seeing Emily's hesitation, quickly added, "I lied about the documents. I just wanted to meet Mr. Blackwood and get his autograph."

Her big eyes were full of pleading as she looked at Emily. "Please, miss, help me out. Ask Mr. Blackwood to sign for me."

Perhaps finding the girl's roundabout way amusing, Damian couldn't help but smirk and looked at Emily, half-joking, "If you ask me, I'll sign it."

"I'll ask," Emily replied immediately, her tone flat as she gestured for the girl to hand her notebook to Damian. "Sign it, and write her a nice message."

Damian was taken aback for a moment.

Emily turned to the girl, asking, "Do you have any other requests? Like taking a photo with him?"

The girl was stunned, then delighted. "Can I? Really? Can I take a photo with Mr. Blackwood?"

Emily didn't answer her directly, looking at Damian instead. Before he could speak, she said, "I’m asking you."

Damian was first confused but then couldn't help but laugh. He took the girl's notebook, opened it on the coffee table, and began to write his name. "What do you want me to write?"

The girl didn’t respond immediately. Emily looked at her curiously, noticing her gaze fixed on the note on the table— the one Damian had taken out earlier, the note she had left for Nathan.

"What do you want me to write?" Damian asked again, also glancing at the girl.

She snapped back to attention and smiled, "Anything you write will be perfect, Mr. Blackwood!"

Damian smirked, a hint of mockery in his expression, and wrote a standard message wishing her success in her studies. The girl, however, looked at Emily and, after a moment of hesitation, said, "Miss, where did you get this notepad? It's so cute!"